A Cold Wisconsin Night
by Kal-El Fornia
Summary: The young man swirled the bottle that his right hand was clutching onto fiercely, and he frowned, knowing that the amount left in it didn't have the sting that he was so determined to feel on that cold Wisconsin night.


One of the things that I grew up on was _**That 70s Show**_, and as I've been on this site for a few years now, it feels a bit odd to finally be writing something for it. A while ago I promised myself I would write on this fanfiction archive for each of the different things that I loved growing up and that I still love now, and it seems with this short one-shot that I have here, that I'm a step closer to actually realizing that goal.

Quote of the day:

**_"Character is forged upon the anvil of conflict, hammered by circumstance and shaped by will."_**

**— Warmaster Slaydo, _Warhammer 40,000_**

* * *

Hyde remained as quiet as Donna was as they sat together on the hood of Eric's Vista Cruiser, and the stench of alcohol was heavy on his breath as he measured the amount of liquor he had left in his bottle, which wasn't nearly enough for just how drunk the young man wanted to get that night. It was true that he had been tripping over his own steps every now and then as he walked, and his vision was more hazy than how he was used to it being, but even then as he sat on Eric's most precious possession with Eric's most precious person at his side, he knew that the night wouldn't be complete if it didn't end with him falling face down drunk, or in the back of some cop's car. Preferably both if the god of tits and wine was generous enough. The young man swirled the bottle that his right hand was clutching onto fiercely, and he frowned, knowing that the amount left in it didn't have the sting that he was so determined to feel on that cold Wisconsin night.

"You know," Donna said after about half an hour of sitting together in silence and with the cold enveloping them, slowly but ever so surely creeping up on the pair, like the end of the autumn days that marked the first frosts of the winter months, "part of me wants to blame him for leaving again."

Hyde didn't look at her, made no movement other than continuing to absentmindedly swirl what little bit of liquor he had left, but Donna's words lingered in the air, heavier than she had intended, less angry and instead only sad, just as Hyde had expected they would be. He supposed that it came with the territory of growing up, which more than one person in his life had said that he had once upon a time been afraid to grasp for whatever it was that the future intended there to be for him. It wasn't true though, that he had been afraid in the days long past, in the nights that had given him dreams that he had long ago forgotten what they were.

The truth was that perhaps he was still afraid, that he was still that kid in Forman's basement arguing with Red about not wanting to have a birthday party, or that boy that edged on manhood that once unbuckled the pants of a girl named Jackie Burkhart, the two of them laughing and whispering, and hiding what affections there were so that no one else would learn that neither one of them were quite as heartless as they seemed. He wasn't sure if it was okay to be afraid now that he was a man, a young one, but a man nonetheless by the words of nearly everyone else around him. It wasn't something that bothered him though, Hyde knowing it was just as true as the fact that Aerosmith kicked major ass, but there were times when he just wanted to lean back with a beer in hand in Forman's basement and relax, laughing in the smokey haze that used to be their weekday afternoons.

"It's not his fault," Hyde clicked his tongue to cut the silence that was the wall between him and Donna at the moment, all the while he swirled his liquor bottle once more, as if frowning at it in disappointment would somehow cause it to magically refill itself, "it's not really something that you can blame him for, you know?"

"Yeah," Donna agreed without argument, never once actually blaming Eric for anything, and instead just feeling the need to say something, to put the blame on anyone, even if it was the last place that she ever wanted to lay it, "I know that you're right."

For the first time that night, Hyde smiled, nudging Big Red as playfully as he could, considering his condition. "Aren't I always right?"

Donna snorted, for a moment almost forgetting how cold Wisconsin actually was that night, and she nudged Hyde right back, with a lot more force than what he had given her. "Always right?" she laughed out loud, the Vista Cruiser under them creaking, as if it too was laughing right alongside her, "More like you're always in need of a kick in the nads."

They both laughed at that one. It wasn't particularly funny or anything, most of the jokes shared between their circle of friends having more cleverness or absurdity to them than there was to Donna's words, but they laughed and laughed, knowing that if they stopped they would just end up doing that other dreaded thing that was usually the domain of Jackie or Mrs. Forman. Despite silent prayers though, the eyes of both young people were a bit teared at the end of their laughter. They each pretended that it was because of the little fit they just had, but each of them also knew the truth.

"It's cold," Hyde said after the silence that overtook their laughter settled for a bit, little clouds of vapor forming when his warm breath came into contact with the frosty air.

Donna ignored his words, and instead just asked him something else as she turned her eyes to the night sky that dazzled with all the stars and heavenly lights that could only appear in a town as small as Point Place. "Are you ready for tomorrow?"

The Vista Cruiser creaked again as if it had been able to read his mind, the stars in the sky shone a bit brighter than Hyde ever remembered them actually being, and Wisconsin remained cold as ever, the chill of the night being the one thing that Hyde knew would forever be his constant. He considered Donna's question for a moment, before he shrugged and answered honestly.

"I'll never be ready for tomorrow."

The two continued to sit in silence, shivering in the Wisconsin night. Neither one of them were ready for Eric's funeral the following day.


End file.
